My Garden Crush

Do you remember your first crush? Mine was in Kindergarten and his name was Mark. My twin sister and I cornered him in the library and kissed him. Nowadays we'd be hauled off to the Principal's Office (or worse) for bullying or sexual harassment. Ah the good old days, when a crush was entirely uncomplicated by technology, social media or politics. I did become slightly more socially savvy and much less demonstrative after the Librarian gave me a little lecture. Then in 1st grade there was Sam, my first and last love interest whose shortness endeared me to him. Next was a boy named Shannon with a cleft palate (I didn't notice--his brown eyes held me transfixed during "heads down" time in 2nd grade). In 3rd grade, a boy named David took it upon himself to quiz all my male classmates on whether they would 'go out' with me (a term I definitely didn't get), and it was a classroom scandal when Kyle revealed that I'd already turned him down. In 4th grade I adored Colin and Jason, and in 5th grade, Bryan. By 6th Grade crushes were more sophisticated with drama, heartbreak and note-passing (for others--I was too shy). They also lasted longer and had more deeply felt consequences. This skimming of my childhood reminiscences brings me to the main features of a crush:

1. It's a secret (a best friend might know--but this is dangerous in case of blackmail), so if anyone guessed, you'd be deeply embarrassed.
2. You practically stalk the person, knowing their habits, schedule, likes, dislikes, etc. The hunt is far more interesting than being hunted. The challenge is half the fun.
3. It's unrequited love: for all the mental and emotional energy you pour in, you get very little in return.
4. It's not a crush anymore if you graduate from Features 1-3 and either have a real friendship or a real relationship with the person.

So how on earth do I have a Garden Crush? When I'm there I feel nervous excitement, confusion, elation and frustration. When I'm away, the garden filters into my thoughts, even in sleep. I know what the garden is like every season of the year and every part of the day. I find any and all excuses to spend time there. For all this toil and all these emotions, there are benefits (exercise, fresh food, friends). But what brings me supernal joy is when the garden smiles--that moment when the sunshine  makes the flowers glow, a hummingbird hovers in zigzags, and the fragranced air rustles the corn stalks. When you come down to it, the aim of a crush is to be noticed, appreciated. Everything I put in seems to be acknowledged in these moments when the garden comes fully alive.

Now that the secret is out I guess my crush may ripen into a solid, wholesome friendship. Until of course winter hits and we begin the rollercoaster ride all over again. But wait, I forgot the most important feature, the one that involves spectators: there is something hopelessly pitiful about someone else's crush...